Come on, it’s his birthday.

Jennifer Martin’s gaze roamed over her living room. No streamers or balloons per his request. The dozens of candles he’d brought over at the beginning of the week were artistically placed across her mantle and her side tables. In the back of her mind, she could hear her smoke alarm going off once she lit all of them. Admittedly, it added a romantic element to her rather plain décor.

Compared to most of her other relationships, theirs’ wasn’t half bad. In the two years she’d dated Asher Cope, she’d seen him at his best and worst. He was kind, caring and considerate. Everything she should want in a boyfriend. She couldn’t even bitch about their sex life except that maybe he was insatiable. But, then again, she figured most twenty-seven-year-old guys were geared for banging.

However three days a month, with almost freaky dependability, his mood turned foul. He attributed his strange behavior to bio-rhythms and normally stayed away from her apartment until he felt himself again. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was menstruating beneath a full moon.

A giggle escaped her lips. “Okay, now you are being silly.”

And, she reminded herself, he was breaking his routine with this romantic dinner. Her gaze went to the bay window taking up the back wall of her living room. Walking to the mullioned window panes, she pulled aside the lacy curtains to see the full moon peeking from between the wispy clouds floating against the inky backdrop. It was a lush moon, full and heavy—perfect for a night of sex with Asher.

They would end up in bed. They always did, unless she was having her period. Even then, she’d give him a tit ride or a blow job to take the edge off his lust. She didn’t mind. Well, not much.

“Who am I kidding?” Propping her weight on one stiletto heel, she heaved a frustrated sigh. The question her mother had asked her this morning caused her to frown. “Do I love him?”

She wished she had an answer. Not because her mother wanted her to settle down and have babies, but because after two years she thought she ought to know if she loved Asher. It wasn’t as simple as just going off gut instinct and saying three simple words.

Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me.

And she had suffered enough burns to last her a lifetime. She’d suffered all the clichés of boyfriends sleeping with her best friends or sister. Since she didn’t have a sister, her cousins were quick to go after her love interests. Her last relationship had ended with a call to the police because her lover started hitting her and wouldn’t stop. Yep, unlucky in love. That’s me.

“Hey baby, what’s got you thinking so hard you didn’t even hear the door?”

“Oh.” Startled, Jennifer spun around and nearly toppled over when she lost her balance. “Thanks,” she whispered gratefully when he steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

She tipped her gaze to his face. “Mom called me today.”

His bright smile was filled with sympathy. “The ‘are you ever going to give me grandchildren’ conversation?”

“Pretty much,” she admitted with a shrug. “You know how she is. It’s all about her not getting any younger and wanting to be sure she sees that dad’s name is carried on. It hasn’t been easy on her since he passed away.”

“What about his daughter? Has it been easy on you?”

“It’s only been three months, and as you can see, I’m hanging in there.” Truthfully, she didn’t know how she felt about her father’s death. He’d never really been there for her. His world revolved around his job as a quazi-investment counselor who robbed widows blind and raped the stock portfolios of non-profit organizations. “I’m still coping with the truth behind his ponzi scheme and how he decided it was easier to kill himself than face the people he’d scammed out of all their savings.”

“That’s why I decided we’d celebrate my birthday by taking your mind off what’s happened.”

Aw, that’s sweet. The pain she’d wrestled with came rushing back. Part of her wasn’t okay with what had come out just prior to her father putting the muzzle of a gun in his mouth. The other part of her said she’d had no way of knowing what he was up to and she needed to move on with her life. “But it’s your birthday.”

“So I get to make all the rules. Your present to me is that I get to do anything I want to your body. I want to hear you howl for me.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“Ye of little faith.” He ushered her to the couch and forced her to sit on the overstuffed cream-colored cushion. “I even brought something to help you over the hump.”

Her gaze snapped to the dress-box sitting on the credenza below her flat screen television. She returned her stare to his handsome face when he brushed his hands down her arms until he clasped both her wrists in one of his. “What are you doing?”

Even as she asked her question, liquid heat moistened her panties. Only Asher knew her fantasy about being fucked hard and thoroughly. In her private dreams she wanted a whole gala of perversion which began with him tying her down and ending with multiple partners.

She wanted him to break down the walls she’d constructed around her heart, eradicate the memories of news crews camped on her doorstep to get an exclusive interview with the daughter of Alvin Martin, before he made her beg for an orgasm. A climax he had absolute control over and delivered with sheer skill. “Jesus,” she whispered on a gasp when he released his already hard cock from his jeans.

“Are you game, Jennifer? Do you want me to fulfill all your fantasies?”